


Memories

by Mattition



Series: Mafia Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Home Movies, Jimmy and Cas are mafia princes, M/M, No one judge me for this, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattition/pseuds/Mattition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas finds some home movies</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

Castiel finds a box in the attic one day. He's hiding from their body guards, because he doesn't want another lecture on 'staying safe'. (He's Castiel fuckin' _Krushnic_ how much safer can you get?) Jimmy's off at school for his afternoon class, but Cas is just an assassin. He doesn't need to go to college. Anyway. The box is labeled 'мальчики' and he knows that the boys the box refers to are his twin and himself. He pulls his pocket knife out, and slices the box open, laughing giddily when he sees a treasure trove of things- baby pictures, a couple tapes, an art project or two, the first bullet Cas ever shot- sentimental things. The tapes are VHS, the kind they used to have in the 90's that you put into those heavy video cameras and used to film your kids on their birthdays getting cake all over their faces. He feels particularly gleeful about these tapes, because he knows for a fact that their cousin once caught them making out on camera. He sneaks the box to his and Jimmy's suite.

There's an old VHS player buried in Jimmy's closet somewhere, he knows, but he can never find anything in the mess anyways. He often wonders how his twin keeps all of his clothes perfectly pressed when they're all stuffed in the disaster zone he calls a closet. (seriously, his _socks_ have clean creases.) He spends something like twenty minutes rummaging through the closet, before he unearths a dusty box with 'VHS player' scribbled on it in Jimmy's messy script. Castiel grins and goes about hooking it up to the TV. He hums excitedly as he settles into their bed, and presses play with the ancient VHS remote.

The video is grainy, and the colors are washed out, but it's watchable. Cas and Jimmy are about six, and they both wear little suits. Castiel wears a pink bowtie, and Jimmy wears a modest black tie. Cas smirks to himself as 6-year-old him frowns at his twin and tries to fix his tie. Jimmy pushes him away with a whine. predictably, Cas pushes him back, and it devolves into a childish slap fight that Vera has to break up.

“Stop it, you two!” She commands, and they pout, muttering to each other in their twin language.

“Oh, Vera, let the boys play,” Alexi laughs from behind the camera, and their mother gives him a dirty look, her lip curling like an angry dog. (Vera is the scariest woman ever.) “Boys, listen to your mother. We’ll be late if we don’t go now.” He’s saying, talking to Vera. She nods, and the boys go off running for the door.

In the car, their mother is taping. She points the camera at Alexi, who’s doing a word search in the book Castiel got him for his birthday the month before. You can tell, even through a camera and 16 years later how much she loves him. It’s there in the way she focuses on his hands as the methodically trace the characters in the book. The soft laugh you can hear in the background because he’s mouthing the words to himself.

“Matka?” The camera view whirls to the twins, both strapped into car seats. “I thought that Babushka and Ded are already married?” Jimmy asks.

“Yes, but they are renewing their vows for their anniversary.” Vera replies, and Castiel’s chubby little face lights up.

“Like with libbary books?”

“Library” Alexi corrects absently, making Cas pout.

“No, they just want to have the ceremony again.” The tape goes staticky for a second, and then Jimmy’s face is taking up the screen. He’s about 15 in this shot, and he’s wearing hot pink lipstick and heavy black eyeliner. He’s grinning.

“So, our cousin Tessa is here, and she’s going through that girly-girl phase, and she did Cas’ and my make up.” He laughs, and the view swings around, to find Cas, 15, _obscenely_ eating a popsicle, lapping at the juice that runs down his hand, smudging red lipstick as he works. “Does that taste good, baby?” Jimmy all but growls, and Cas looks up, the entire popsicle in his mouth. He smiles around it, his eyes going dark. He pulls off the frozen treat.

“Do you want some?” he asks seductively. Jimmy immediately puts the camera down, probably on the dresser, and stalks over to his twin. The camera is on it’s side, but it shows some of the bed, and a lot of the floor. But the sound is enough. The camera picks up half-muffled moans and whispered commands; murmurs of, ‘shut up, Cas, you don’t want our parents to hear, do you?’ and Castiel’s subsequent moan, or ‘Jesus, baby, you’re getting lipstick all over the place--you know that you’re the one cleaning that stuff off my dick, right?’ and the giggling that results.

Castiel gets so wrapped up in watching the movies that he doesn’t notice it when the real Jimmy comes back, singing something disgustingly poppy under his breath as he steps out of his shoes and begins undressing, stripping really, and then shoving all of his clothes in a corner just to spite Cas, because he’s not paying attention.

“Is this your way of telling me that you want to make a sex tape?” Jimmy asks, relishing in victory when Castiel jumps about a foot in the air.

“Jim, you scared me!” Castiel gasps, holding his heart.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jimmy declares, crawling onto the bed next to him. They snuggle together under the covers as Castiel explains the tapes. Jimmy barely listens, just mouths at his neck, eventually pulling it off of his twin, and leaning down to suck hickeys across his chest. “Tonight,” Jimmy murmurs, biting hard onto his twin’s collarbone. “I’m not gonna fuck you. I’m just gonna taste your pretty nipples until you come _all over_ yourself.” Cas whimpers.

“Jim, Please, want--”

“I don’t care what you want, baby. I’ll fuck you tomorrow.” It’s as much a threat as it is a promise, and it makes Castiel moan. “In fact, I think I’ll fuck you all day tomorrow.” Jimmy decides, and latches onto his twin’s right nipple before he can protest.

Cas barely gets a sentence out the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> find other things from the Mafia verse on my tumblr, deanpunchester. This one wont be posted there for a bit, i think, but there's other word vomit. I appreciate commentary!


End file.
